


same deep water as me

by sayounarahitori



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Canon Compliant, Just A Whole Lotta Touching, M/M, Mild Body Worship, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23674015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayounarahitori/pseuds/sayounarahitori
Summary: Kun cared too much. Ten, unfortunately, cared even more.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun
Comments: 35
Kudos: 337





	same deep water as me

3, 2, 1.

The clock struck twelve, and Ten looked at Kun. It made sense — it was his birthday now.

Kun was smiling, as he was throughout the whole concert, effortlessly beautiful. Ten's gaze lingered, and his mind slipped to one year ago — their grand debut, and the way Kun had been worried to death, even if he tried not to show it.

He knew Kun then, and he knew him so much better now. That's why he saw his smile slip at times, caught him distracted, as if pondering over something.

He managed to push it away for a while, until they were finally returning to the hotel, saying goodbye to others and leaving for their room — him and Kun together, this time.

So maybe it was the first time they’d be sharing an enclosed space since all these months ago, when someone thought putting them together in one room would be a good idea. Two eldest, most sensible ones, right? Right.

Ten didn’t like to revisit those times.

“You wanna shower first?” he offered magnanimously, easily. Let Kun see how good a roommate he could be now.

Kun looked at him as if he was suddenly speaking Thai. As if Ten just suggested they go shower together. Which. He had never thought about. Haha.

“Right,” Kun replied, suspicion clear on his face and in his voice both. After a pause, “Thank you.”

Ten sat down heavily on his bed the moment the bathroom door closed behind Kun. It wasn’t hard to ignore his ankle on the stage, swept up in everything, but now it throbbed and nagged angrily, reminding him of the reason he couldn’t just stand up and join the others in the familiar dance formations.

It’s fine, he said a million times, smiling at his members and managers and fans. It was nothing, so small compared to the ways his body betrayed him before, miniscule in the grand scheme of things. He’d be fine before the big stages millions of kilometres away, and that’s what mattered.

That’s what everyone said.

Ten couldn’t help but think what it implied — as if what he was doing, or, rather, what he was supposed to be doing here, with WayV, didn’t matter. Or mattered less. Anyway.

Some stupid superstitious part of him hated that he was greeting New Year like this, feared it would impact the whole year to come.

Some part of him thought of the other way this day was special even more.

Ten flinched when the door opened. How did Kun shower so fast? Did Ten fall asleep or something? He glanced at the clock quickly — 2:24 AM. It must have been less then fifteen minutes.

Kun always took the shortest showers at the dorm, too, Ten shouldn’t have even considered that this would be any different. Too caring of the other members, and water-conscious to boot, no matter how much others tried to convince him it was fine — Kun was ridiculous.

Ten thought, quietly, that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You want help?” Kun asked, toweling off his hair. He was already dressed for bed. Again, ridiculous. Ten hated dressing in the bathroom, the way he could never be fully dry before putting on fresh clothes way too annoying. Besides, what could be better than lounging in a bathrobe after a long shower?

“What?” Ten asked, confused. Help with what?

Kun nodded towards his foot.

Oh. Ten hadn’t even considered that. He quickly bent down and started unwrapping the bandage. “It’s fine,” he muttered, even as he could feel Kun’s gaze boring holes into him.

He made a quick work out of it, and when he straightened up, Kun was still there. Staring.

“I’m fine,” Ten said, trying to sound irritated. Instead, he came off as almost apologetic. “Don’t worry.”

Kun’s sigh said it all. So he was worried. Ten knew it. It was written on his face throughout the whole concert, even as they both tried to ignore it.

“Seriously, it’s fine,” he insisted, and then muttered, unable to help himself, “I’m sorry I’m like this for your birthday.”

Kun groaned and dropped down beside him.

"It's not about my birthday, dumbass.”

Ten silently praised himself for keeping quiet at the frankly unneccessary bullying, and motioned for Kun to continue.

"It's just—" he sighed. "It's so unfair. Here was our big chance, a big performance in China, and you couldn't fully be a part of it. I… I dreamed about this day, you know.” He laughs suddenly, almost harsh. “I guess I spent too long imagining it.”

Ten felt something squeeze his heart. It wasn't the first time. It happened before, when he was away for too long, when he saw Kun fussing over others, over him, when Ten looked at him singing with all his heart, when he introduced his members to his family. 

It happened a lot.

He would look — and scold himself for looking, for _longing_. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this, not with Kun; not creeping up on him in early mornings and late nights, in the electronic tracks Kun sent him and the way Ten could never figure out how to respond.

The way Ten found himself itching to hug Kun.

It wasn't weird — Ten loved hugs, everyone knew that. But Kun… he didn't exactly initiate it, and he could stiffen if you did it without a warning. And that was alright, Ten was used to it.

He used to tell himself he didn't even want to hug Kun, which… It had been true, a long time ago, when they were already in a group together but only technically, before Ten saw what Kun could do if given a chance. A while ago. Ten didn't remember how it felt.

Nowadays, it was all that he wanted — to hug Kun, touch Kun, make Kun smile and laugh; so he hit Kun, teased Kun, made him yell and frown and sigh. It was a compromise of sorts.

Personally, Ten thought he was rather obvious (and so did Sicheng). But their game was easy and comfortable to play, and Kun was never _really_ annoyed these days, so Ten wasn't really concerned.

The problem was — it was hard, moments like this, with too much emotional honesty hanging in the air between them, when Ten didn't have the heart to make a joke.

He inched a tiny bit closer, hoping Kun would notice, hoping against hope that Kun would initiate something himself. So that Ten could know it was not just him, so that Ten could have something to keep him warm later, alone in his bed. So that he could have an excuse.

But Kun was staring at his lap, instead of at Ten.

"Kun," Ten said finally. "I'm fine. It's… I won't disagree it's unfair, it fucking sucks, and I hate being unable to be there with all of you, but there will be other stages. This is not the end."

It helped, saying this out loud. Ten felt like he was maybe convincing himself alongside Kun. The bitterness dissipated further, melting into concern. And Ten hated this, hated being so overworked over someone else; but he wouldn't give it away, not if it took away their closeness, the comfort of Kun sitting close to him, the warmth of Kun's voice when he finally began to speak.

"I… Thank you. You're right. I'm sorry I'm like this, I'm sure you'd rather not dwell on it."

Ten snorted. "It's my leg, I can't help but dwell on it."

"I just want you to be healthy," Kun said, almost a whisper. "All of you."

Ten sighed. "I know. I know. That's why you're the leader."

"That's not…"

"Shut up." Ten nudged him softly. It turned into a pat. "I'm complimenting you. Sort of."

Kun smiled and finally looked up at him. His eyes were shining, maybe with a hint of tears that couldn't come out. But his smile was genuine, wide and happy and everything Ten had ever wanted to see.

God, he was so fucked.

"Well… thank you," Kun said, and Ten started before he even realised what was happening. He looked down. Kun's hand was on his.

"I just… I would see you well," Kun mumbled. His fingers were making small circles on Ten's upturned palm, and it was entirely too much and not enough at the same time.

"I know," Ten replied dumbly, unable to take his eyes away from where their hands touched. His heart was in his throat. His other hand was still on Kun's shoulder.

This was completely unprecedented, and as such, Ten had no way of figuring out where to proceed with this. Kun was just too nice sometimes, like now, and Ten never knew what the fuck to do. They were close, but not really close enough, and they were touching, but not in the way that left no room for doubts, and Ten was maybe going to die if he didn't get to kiss Kun soon. God.

"If it helps, you killed it," Ten supplied. "And I was glad to stand there with you for at least one song, and the finale, too."

Kun hummed and then muttered something very quietly.

"What?" Ten asked.

"Feels weird without you," Kun mumbled, and then immediately, "No, sorry, forget this. I'm not—"

"Idiot," Ten snapped and clutched Kun's hand in his own.

Instead of responding in kind, Kun just smiled gently, looking at their hands. "Yeah, that's true. I'm just making you feel bad for something that was completely out of your control."

Oh god, Ten was going to kill him.

He used his free hand to turn Kun's head towards him. Kun's expression was so open, so honest, it was scary, but Ten barrelled on.

"Not that! I meant— you can share stuff with me. You know that, right?"

Kun nodded, but it seemed automatic. Ten let his hand slide up, touching Kun's hair, fresh and clean after the shower.

He rubbed Kun's nape, hoping to comfort, to reassure, maybe, but he was afraid his own desires were seeping through.

Kun looked at him again. His features were so soft, framed by the bedside lamp, and Ten couldn't even begin to guess what his own face was showing.

He hugged him before Kun could say anything, something that would shatter the moment.

God, but Kun was warm. He was warm and soft and smelled beyond wonderful. He also didn't stiffen, but rather relaxed into the embrace almost immediately. It was awkward, in the sense that their legs didn't really figure into the hug, but Ten hardly cared. He was touching, finally, touching so much, and he wanted to carry this feeling with him, forever.

It took him a moment to realise that one of Kun's hands — the one that wasn't clutched in his — reached around and was now hesitantly touching his nape. Ten shivered before he could stop it, and Kun exhaled right into his neck, and all the intentions of keeping this innocent and friendly flew out of the window.

Ten gulped and moved back, taking both his hands away.

"Right," he said, not looking at Kun. 

Fuck, why did he do that? And why did he _stop_ doing that?

He stood up from the bed quickly, ignoring the twinge in his ankle.

Ten felt the urge to apologise, even though technically, he hadn't done anything wrong. 

"I'm gonna go shower," he mumbled and went to the bathroom without looking back.

*

When Ten finished his unnecessarily long shower, the room was already dark and quiet. It was hardly a surprise — they were all tired and needed rest.

Still, something inside him stirred painfully. Maybe he wanted more — not just touches, but maybe to talk with Kun, check that he wasn't still feeling down about their stage.

Ugh. Whatever.

He sat down gingerly, careful not to put the weight on his ankle. And now… right. He forgot about this part.

The bandages lay abandoned by his feet, so he bent down to get them and managed to hit his head on the bedside table. Great.

Ten cursed quietly.

"I can dress it," came the voice from the other bed.

Ten jumped up in surprise. Evidently, he wasn't quiet enough.

"I can do it," he said. He wasn't gonna apologise for waking Kun — he hadn't been that loud.

There was a rustling of sheets and then soft footsteps moving closer to him.

"Let me," Kun said — and his dark shape kneeled down before Ten.

Ten tried to mask his gasp as a yawn and most likely failed miserably. In the next moment, Kun's gentle hands were on his ankle, taking the dressing and starting to wrap it around Ten's leg.

"Tell me if it's too tight," Kun murmured, pausing. Ten felt his warm voice echo somewhere deep inside him, and he nodded dumbly. "Ten?"

"Yes, yes," he replied, realising Kun couldn't see him. He sat there, trying his best not to move. Kun's touches were so fleeting, so unassuming, and that was the worst part. Ten wanted strong hands on him, the way he knew they could be, but it was impossible to voice this.

It ended quickly, and Ten rather felt like he was vibrating out of his skin. Kun was still kneeling, his face impossible to see with just a hint of moonlight coming in through the curtains. Fuck, he should say something, right? Right.

"Thank you," Ten croaked. His voice sounded foreign, distant, as if coming from someone else.

Then Kun's hand moved, sliding up, under his bathrobe, towards Ten's knee. He didn't do anything, just let it rest there. His other hand was still holding Ten's ankle.

Ten forgot how to breathe.

His mind swarmed with thoughts — like maybe he should have told Kun that it was enough, or taken his leg away, but here, in the dark, he couldn't help but be honest. The touch was grounding, calming. He didn't want Kun to let go, to be separated by a thin wall of professionalism again.

So he reached out slowly and covered Kun's hand where it was lying on his knee.

Kun looked up, but Ten couldn't see anything but the brief reflections of light in his eyes.

It was easy, right then and there, to ignore the context of whatever this was, to succumb to the darkness. Nothing else mattered. Only the places where they touched existed.

Kun threaded their fingers together on Ten's knee, and then he was stroking the skin there with his thumb, and — fuck. Ten bit his lip. It felt like every part of his body was sensitive, and if Kun had a mind to touch anywhere else, Ten wouldn't bear it, he would explode and fall into a million little pieces.

"Kun," he called out. It was needless: Kun was already looking at him. He let Ten's foot fall into his lap and stroked up, up, and Ten leaned down, crumbling.

He felt so terrified, so helpless, but all that he could do was just think: don't stop, please don't stop.

It seemed like an absurd dream, having Kun like this, so close, warm breath making hair on Ten's legs stand up. 

But it was real. Kun was stroking his leg, almost massaging it, and Ten was melting into the touch. It was so quiet that his own embarrassingly quickening breathing could be easily heard.

It would be so simple to kiss Kun like this. He could lean in, just like that.

But it would be different. Some part of Ten enjoyed the uncertainty lingering in the air, the thrill of standing on the precipice of something new. So he reached out with his hand, not really knowing what he was going to do, until he found Kun's face. Ten let himself study it with his fingers, tracing shapes on Kun's skin. He touched Kun's mouth and it opened on an exhale.

He waited, patient, in case Kun would protest or move away or do _something_.

He didn't.

With shuddering breath, Ten swept his thumb over Kun's lower lip. Kun let out a small sound, very loud in the sweeping silence, and clutched Ten's leg with both of his hands. The pressure jolted Ten, and the tiny movement was enough for his thumb to slip into Kun's mouth.

Ten froze.

He wasn't ready to feel the warmth and wetness on his finger, but it awakened something inside, too, a heady feeling that replaced every sensible thought left in him. There was so much more he needed. His mind spiraled with possibilities.

Kun was watching him again, and Ten felt pinned under his gaze, even as he could hardly see anything. There was nothing he could do when Kun licked his thumb, only shiver slightly. Kun's hand was moving freely, spreading goosebumps over Ten's skin — he might have been leaving faint red marks behind with his nails, too. Ten couldn't know in the dark.

His thumb slipped out, but Kun caught his wrist and pressed a light kiss to it. The softness of it was unbearable, the care and the patience Kun seemed to give anything — and it took all of his will to remain calm, and quiet, and silent. It was Kun who deserved this, it was Kun that Ten wanted to lay out on the bed and cover with kisses and whisper praises to.

Instead, Kun put their joined hands to the side and pressed his mouth to Ten's knee.

The touch of his lips felt like a brand on Ten's skin. He jolted, then grasped onto Kun's hair. Kun was kissing his leg now, actually kissing it, going a bit lower then coming back up until he reached Ten's inner thigh. His legs parted. It was a small movement, involuntary. It felt like surrender.

The bathrobe was barely concealing any skin on his legs, or just how good it felt to have Kun's mouth on them. Ten was flushing, he was pretty sure. His throat was dry. He was squeezing Kun's hand and messing up his hair, and not having him closer was getting more and more unbearable. He gave in.

He tugged, and Kun looked up — god, the image of him, kneeling there, almost between Ten's legs. Their eyes met.

"Come here," Ten said weakly, tugging again. "Please."

Kun pressed one last kiss to the inside of Ten's thigh and let himself be pulled up, onto Ten, ending up in his lap. Ten exhaled under the sudden weight of him, but it wasn't unwelcome. His free hand settled on Kun's waist.

Their faces were so, so close now, but neither of them was making the first move. In the end, Kun just hugged him, burying his face in Ten's shoulder.

"Don't start acting bashful now," Ten admonished, even though he probably wouldn't have been able to look Kun in the eye either.

Kun muttered something, muffled by the skin of Ten's shoulder.

"Huh?"

"You'll be the death of me," Kun repeated, raising his head, and Ten shivered, the words tickling his neck.

"The feeling's mutual," Ten whispered, emboldened enough to hold onto Kun a little tighter. He felt like nothing could be better than this, here, Kun enveloping him with his warmth, Kun breathing into his ear.

"How are you so perfect," Ten whined, startling a laugh out of Kun.

"The perks of being me." He sounded smug, of course he did. Ten _knew_ he was embarrassed, but he still had the gall to act smug.

"Ugh, forget I said anything!" Ten thumped on Kun's back, but then nuzzled into his neck, unable to resist. Kun sighed peacefully, threading his fingers through Ten's hair, scratching his nape and massaging it lightly. Ten was pretty much stuck between being really, really comfortable and stupidly aroused. He wanted to go to sleep like this — well, maybe horizontally — but he also kinda wanted to press Kun closer and grind up into him.

"Tennie," he heard in the dark before Kun pressed a soft kiss to his neck, and Ten barely swallowed the urge to whine. He felt like he was melting, and for several minutes, they just stayed like that.

"Are you asleep already?" Kun teased, his breath tickling Ten's neck.

"No," Ten said resolutely and suppressed the urge to yawn. "Maybe."

“Come on,” Kun said, so gently, and before Ten even realised, they were both under blankets.

Blanket. Same blanket.

At least, that was until he felt Kun slipping out, and Ten was reaching with his hand and grasping his elbow. Too fast, too eager, but he hardly cared at this point.

Kun turned, or so Ten thought. It was too dark.

“Don’t go,” Ten whispered.

Kun laughed, but not unkindly.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m just going to the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

Ten tried his best to keep himself awake until he came back — he even tried kicking the covers off, but it was way too cold outside, and so he settled in, blinking arduously all the while. Belatedly, he realised that he was still in his bathrobe, but he’d be damned if he was getting up for _anything_ now.

Finally, Kun was sliding back under the covers, and then — there they were, lying together in the bed too small for two grown men, way too close for group members or even friends.

“Aren’t we supposed to be staying up till morning?” Ten asked, just to have something hanging in the air.

“I think we’re too old for that,” Kun chuckled. They were talking so quietly, as if someone was listening.

“Speak for yourself,” Ten said, barely swallowing a yawn.

Kun grew quiet, and more serious. “I could never stay up until morning,” he confessed, as if that was somehow shameful.

Ten laughed. Sometimes Kun was too easy to tease. “That’s because you—”

“I’ve always been old, I know,” Kun interrupted, stealing his joke. Ten glared at him, but the effect was completely lost in the dark.

He wished he could see Kun more clearly — he didn’t know when he’d be able to look at him this close again. A thousand questions roaming in his head — what are we, what are we doing, what’s going to happen come morning, — but he kept silent, just reached out to smooth the frown away that marred Kun’s perfect forehead.

“Sleep then,” he murmured, and didn’t follow it up with a quip about Kun’s age, even thought they both expected it.

Kun caught his hand, the hand that Ten just forgot to take away. He watched as Kun kissed his wrist, and he wanted to close his eyes, as if that would be able to wipe the faint dark image from his memory.

Instead, he kept looking, kept soaking in everything he could see. Kun lowered their hands between them gently, and for a fleeting second Ten thought he could feel the touch of bare skin on his leg.

He wanted to stay here, where nothing else mattered and nothing else existed but Kun’s touches, Kun’s kindness, where they could sleep in one bed and it wasn’t scary or wrong, and didn’t need explaining. But he was exhausted, and it was so, so warm.

Kun was humming something. Ten didn’t have enough brain capacity left to ask what it was.

On the edge of sleep, he thought of Thailand and how maybe, for the next New Year’s, they could be there.

In his dreams, he was walking by the sea, drenched in the rain, laughing, his hand clenched in Kun’s.

When he woke up, he could still feel the phantom touch — except he looked down and it was real.

**Author's Note:**

> title and some inspiration from I Am Kloot: consider listening to them while you read (especially Same Deep Water, Hold Back the Night, Sold As Seen, From Your Favourite Sky etc).
> 
> bandages don't work like that. i am. sorry. i needed them to work like that. (sorry.)
> 
> talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/boldmoonwalk) and [cc](https://curiouscat.me/boldmoonwalk)


End file.
